


Learning to Dance

by reg_slivko



Category: Kong: Skull Island (2017)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, First Time, Gay Panic, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-09 03:30:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10402857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reg_slivko/pseuds/reg_slivko
Summary: James Conrad teaches Reg Slivko how to dance.  Then he teaches him how to live with who he is.  Then he teaches him some other, NSFW things.





	1. Chapter 1

James Conrad and Reg Slivko had always had an… odd air between them.  At first it seemed like your average power imbalance: Reg was a bit starstruck with James, James found Reg rather amusing, and all seemed more or less normal, if not necessarily comfortable.  Then James saved Reg’s life, and then Reg saved everyone’s lives, and it got a bit stranger after that.  Once the survivors made it back to the aircraft carrier and set sail for home, everyone was celebrating, but when Conrad and Slivko hugged, it lasted a little too long.  For the first few days, it seemed like one of them was always staring at the other, then the staree would catch the starer, and the starer would look away, but then look back, and it kept repeating and to be perfectly honest, Conrad was getting pretty damn sick of it.  Reg seemed satisfied with their friendly relationship, which was driving Conrad absolutely nuts.  How could Slivko not recognize that there was something else going on here?  James had always been perceptive, but now he wasn’t sure if his wishful thinking was clouding his judgement.  On the one hand, James had seen plenty of men engaging in all sorts of nefarious activities throughout his 10-or-so years as a regular at gay bars all over the world, so he knew that the odds weren’t impossible that Reg was also a homosexual.  But on the other hand, he really wasn’t interested in being outed just because he’d been dumb enough to confuse gratitude for having one’s life saved with the desire to have a bloke up your arse.  

James sighed and ran his hands over his face, as if he could rub away the seemingly-endless inner monologue that had been plaguing him since he started this suicide mission.  God, he was starting to feel like a little girl plucking at a daisy:  _ He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not.   _ Although it was less about “me” and more about “men.”  

James’ train of thought was interrupted by the sound of music coming from downstairs.  This was rather typical: The boys’ barracks were just below him, and Slivko’s beloved record player had miraculously survived the mission.  However, it wasn’t the sound of music that was out of the ordinary, it was the music that was playing… it sounded like swing, hits from the 1940s.  Curious, James got up from his desk, exited his (private, thank god) room and descended the stairwell to the barracks.  There, he found Hank dancing around the hall while a Count Basie record spun on the player and the boys watching in confusion, to say the least.

“Trying to teach them how to dance?” James asked, leaning against the doorframe.  The boys looked at him hoping for a savior, but when Hank nodded, James instead offered to help.  They didn’t seem to appreciate that much.

“You can dance?” Reg sounded so shocked you’d have think Conrad had announced his ability to grow wings and fly in the air.

“I’m not sure this watch-and-learn method is going to work, Lieutenant,” James said, ignoring Reg’s question. “If they’re going to learn how to dance they’ll have to actually do it.”

“Yeah, that’d be better, but… there aren’t any girls around.” Hank replied disappointedly. 

Based on the looks he was getting from Hank and the boys, James figured that the girls that were around, Weaver and Lin, probably already got asked and probably responded unfavorably.

“Oh nonsense, girls aren’t necessary for learning to dance!  Now who wants to go first?”

“I want to try!” Slivko piped up relatively quickly.  He stood up excitedly but then drooped a bit. “Wait, but do I have to… doesn’t one of us-”   
“It’s fine, you can lead.” James nodded.

About 3 seconds ago, dancing the woman’s role in a ballroom dance sounded like torture to the boys (and Hank), but now it suddenly seemed so badass.  Something only somebody as tough as James Conrad could pull off.

Reg approached Conrad hesistantly at first, but a friendly smile from James seemed to encourage him enough.  They stood there, facing each other, saying nothing for a bit too long.   
“You’ll need to put a hand on my waist, Slivko,” James prodded.

“Right, sorry.” 

James slid a hand onto Reg’s shoulder and used his other to grab his free hand.  It wasn’t until about right then that James realized how ridiculous this was, but he decided he was too far in now.

“Alright, now just follow my feet, like this, see?” James guided Reg slowly through the motions until he seemed somewhat comfortable.  After a minute they sped up, matching the rhythm of the song and actually having a decent time.  Soon enough everybody was enjoying watching them dance.  Reg seemed to pick it up naturally, spinning James around and pulling him closer.

“Dip me,” James stated after a few minutes.

“What?” Reg’s eyes widened.   
“Dip me!  You can do it.”

And he did, and it was fun- exhilarating, really- and Reg had a big smile on his face (normal) and James had a big smile on  _ his  _ face (abnormal), until Reg looked confused.  And then he looked bored.  And then he looked sad.  James’ smile dropped.  Solemnly, Reg pulled James out of the dip and stepped away.

“This is silly.  I don’t even like dancing.” Reg looked nearly as heartbroken as James felt.  James just stood there for a moment, before walking over to the record player and turning it off.  The song slowed and then stopped.

“Enough for today, I suppose.  I have work to do.  Nice to see you, lads.” James quickly walked out of the room and up to his own, feeling oddly embarrassed.  He showered for a long time, trying to wash away the peculiar feeling he’d been left with, but ultimately failed.  He crawled into his too-small bed and wished he’d never investigated the music playing downstairs.

_ No, that’s not fair,  _ he thought to himself,  _ it was nearly worth it.  Sure, he made me look like an idiot, but he was so happy before.   _ Conrad couldn’t help but smile remembering how happy Reg looked and how good he was at dancing.  He was the only one willing to try- yet another example of Slivko’s immense bravery, admittedly a different kind of bravery than the one he exhibited on the mission.  Conrad even laughed to himself when he remembered how flabbergasted everyone was when he let Slivko lead.  Then he stopped laughing.  Not because he wasn’t happy, but because he was hard.  He had no memory of this happening but all of a sudden it was there and it didn’t make much sense.  He knew he had a bit of a crush, but my God, is a memory of ill-fated ballroom dancing all it takes to get him going now?  It’d been a while since Conrad had had much action- pickings are slim in Vietnam- but that was hardly enough to justify having the erectile reactivity of a teenage boy all of a sudden.

_ Slivko’s only 20.  He probably gets hard this easily,  _ Conrad thought before he could stop himself.  His cock twitched and he figured he had to do something about it.  Reluctantly, he reached down and pressed a hand to himself through his sweatpants.  God, it felt good, but he felt so bad about it.  It wasn’t the fact that he was having thoughts about a man that made him feel bad- Conrad had spent many years coming to terms with that part of himself- it was just that it was  _ this  _ man.  Boy, really.  A boy forced to be a man by circumstances.  Conrad had been perfectly satisfied by anonymous sex in dingy clubs (“clubs” being a fancy term for basements, usually) since he was 17 and he didn’t see any need for that to change.  Sure, he’d thought about how it might be nice to have somebody to talk to about everything, to hold, to wake up next to… The idea of waking up next to Slivko suddenly forced its way into Conrad’s mind and his cock twitched again.  

_ Heavens, what is wrong with me?   _ Conrad refused to accept the idea that his attraction to Slivko was more than physical.  So, he forced himself to think only about superficial things while he wanked, like how Slivko would look in the shower, or Slivko on his knees, or Slivko on his  _ hands _ and knees, or Slivko fingering himself…

Conrad never ran out of compromising positions to put fantasy-Slivko in, but after a frustratingly-long time, Conrad wasn’t getting very far.  He knew that the hyper-sexual fantasizing wasn’t going to finish him off, but he still tried for a while longer before letting his mind linger to sweeter moments: Slivko’s relaxed expression when he listens to rock n’ roll, Slivko’s laugh, Slivko’s voice when he’s a bit tipsy, the way Slivko looked at him when they were dancing, the way Slivko looked at him that first night back on the ship, the way Slivko looked at him when he chose to turn on the Colonel and save their lives…

Conrad was getting angry now.  Not only had he  _ humiliatingly  _ wanked to sweet memories, but it wasn’t even working.  He was so close, on the edge practically, but he couldn’t finish.  Every good thought was interrupted with the crushing reminder that Slivko was just a soldier impressed by Conrad’s rank and skill.  

_ He probably only agreed to dance with me because he felt like he had to,  _ Conrad sighed internally.  He continued to torture himself with what he figured to be the harsh truth of Slivko’s heterosexuality and eventually managed to fall asleep (still nursing a half-boner, of course).

 

Reg woke up angry.  He’d gone to bed angry, too, but he’d figured then it would fade.  He was angry at Conrad for making him look like an idiot.  He was angry at Hank for always acting like an idiot.  More than anything, he was angry at himself for being an idiot.  

Reg seemed to get things wrong a lot.  He’d never done well in school.  He got yelled at the most of anyone in his unit (or squadron, probably) during Basic.  He got punished often during the war for making stupid decisions- sparing people, denying orders, going back for lost comrades.  After his decision to turn on the Colonel and save Kong went relatively well, he got a bit cocky it seemed, because now he was being more wrong than ever.  Wrong about how men are supposed to behave, wrong about how other people feel, wrong about what “dancing practice” means (it obviously means “dancing practice,” and nothing more, doesn’t it?).  He was wrong about Conrad and Weaver, and after insinuating their relationship got a rather rude awakening (a slap from Weaver, that is).  They were only four days into the twenty-day journey back (there wasn’t enough funding for planes on the way back, so they were taking the aircraft carrier the whole way), and Reg had already managed to make several bad decisions.  And whenever Reg made a bad decision, he thought back to the worst decision he’d ever made: asking his father why boys don’t marry boys when he was 11.  That was the beating of his life, and he’d be damned if he ever forgot it (literally).  Reg decided war was a productive way to apply his anger that he’d carried ever since, but it never worked.  Instead, his anger turned to sadness, his sadness turned to weakness, his weakness turned to constant pain.  That pain had assuaged a little when Conrad was around.  He was powerful but kind.  It was the first time Reg had met a leader who wasn’t cruel.  And suddenly being brave wasn’t so hard anymore, and Reg started to feel like the person he was before that beating.  Except now he was a man- a young man, sure, but still a man- and as a result he had… needs.  Cravings he couldn’t explain.  They started out relatively innocent, or at least not explicitly sexual; He found himself desperate for Conrad’s approval, wishing Conrad would touch him more, trying to find ways to make Conrad smile.  Then it got a bit more… unrealistic.  He watched Conrad shave one night on the island and wished he wouldn’t because he liked the stubble.  He stared at Conrad’s ragged clothes for inexplicably long periods of time.  That first night on the ship they kept looking at each other and he was a little drunk and he thought about it over and over again in bed trying desperately to keep quiet.

He’d known it was probably worth keeping secret before but now he knew this was serious cause for concern.  In that moment when he dipped Conrad, he felt a rush of affection so great that he felt like he’d lived for the first time in years.  It was terrifying.  Even forgetting that Conrad was a  _ man  _ (which was impossible to forget anyways), Conrad was twice as smart as him, ten times as important, twenty times more attractive… there was a snowball’s chance in hell of any reciprocated feelings.  Conrad probably knew how Reg felt since he’d been so obvious about it, even before he volunteered to dance with him.  And what did good ol’ Captain Conrad do?  Did he let him down easy?  Did he tell Reg to snap out of it and rip off the band-aid?  Nope, he sauntered in the room with his stupidly-tight shirt, put his big, strong hands in his pockets and leaned on the doorframe like the sexy asshole he is.  And when they danced, Reg realized a lot of things at once.  He realized why he’d stared at Conrad’s clothes (because he wanted to see them gone).  He realized why he thought Conrad and Weaver were an item (because any woman would want him).  He realized why he kept thinking about Conrad’s face at night when everyone else was resting peacefully (because he’s a freak and a moron).

Reg splashed his face.  Then he splashed it again.  He avoided looking in the mirror; He didn’t want to see himself right now.  Or maybe ever again.

He skipped breakfast.  He listened to his records over and over again but it felt like he was hearing them in a totally different way than before.  It felt like seeing an old friend from years ago, but not in a sweet or nostalgic way, more in a way that makes you feel sad and old and confused.  It reminded him a lot of the first few weeks in Vietnam.  He’d felt like everything he’d been told before was a lie.  Now, it was similar but a little different.  This time, he felt like everything he knew about himself was a lie.  Even though Reg was no stranger to embarrassing himself, it felt so much worse now.  

 

Conrad didn’t see Reg much that day.  He was kind of hoping that Slivko would just show up and act normal and then things would become normal as a result.  Instead, there was an emptiness to the air, like an unfinished sentence or a, well, like an interrupted song, which it exactly was in a way.  It wasn’t just Conrad, either, everybody was asking where Reg was.  When the other soldiers said he wasn’t feeling well, there was a collective sigh of disappointment.  Even if he didn’t believe it, everybody liked Reg.  It made sense, then, that Conrad had become so infatuated with him- plenty of people have nice bodies, but nobody was as kind or brave or generous as Reg.  Conrad had wanted to talk to Reg all morning, partially because he always wanted to talk to Reg, partially because he was still wound up from last night’s failure to release and somehow felt seeing Reg would make it better.  He figured that Reg probably didn’t want to see him (since he seemed to hate him so damn much all of a sudden) but his good will got the best of him.  Conrad left his breakfast unfinished and made his way to the barracks.  When he opened the door, Reg turned his head a bit to see who was there but then grimaced slightly and looked back at the ceiling.

“Slivko,” James announced.  Even though he didn’t say anything else, they both felt like he’d just said a lot.  A moment passed without a word.

“Slivko, I just wanted to make sure you were alright.  Maybe you should go to the infirmary if you’re si-”   
“I’m not that sort of sick,” Reg interrupted.

Another moment passed.  James wondered if Reg meant what he thought he meant, but figured it was unlikely.

“Well, if you need anything… let me know.” Conrad simultaneously didn’t want to leave and couldn’t bear to stay.  He waited a moment just in case Reg would say something but he didn’t.  Conrad left without saying anything.

 

Reg eventually did eat, although it wasn’t until lunch, and it wasn’t much.  Everybody was quite concerned by that point: Nobody on the crew was quite as enthusiastic about meals as Reg.  Conrad stared at Reg the whole time, but Reg never looked back.  Twice between lunch and breakfast and once after lunch, Conrad had brought himself right on the edge but failed to climax, and each time it got worse than before.  He was starting to get desperate, and his wildly detailed and intimate fantasies were reflecting it.  Usually Conrad’s sexual imagination was practically a montage of miscellaneous sexy things, with no real coherence or theme.  Now, he was imagining entire intricate scenarios of seduction, teasing, begging, and lastly, raw, powerful fucking.  He imagined himself apologizing to Slivko for… whatever it is he did wrong.  Even though it made him feel better, it didn’t make him feel exactly good.  And of course, he still couldn’t finish.  He was getting angry now, and he got damn close to punching the wall until he heard Creedence Clearwater Revival playing downstairs.  He grunted and pulled up his pants, jogging down the stairwell and storming into the barracks.  He expected to find all the soldiers there, but Reg was alone.

“Could you turn that down?” Conrad demanded.

“What? I can’t hear you,” Reg replied smugly, both of them knowing full-well he could hear him.  Conrad walked to Reg, stomping the power button of the player with his foot on the way there. Slivko looked properly frightened now, and scurried back to the wall, but Conrad grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer.

“I’m getting real sick of this shit, Slivko.” Conrad growled.

“Wh...what shit?” Reg weakly responded.  Conrad pulled him closer only to push him into the wall again, just hard enough to get Reg to focus on his face.

“I don’t like leaving business unfinished.  I can’t finish anything else until I tie up loose ends.” Conrad’s glare bore into Reg’s eyes unrelentingly.

“What business?” Reg seemed genuinely confused.  Conrad sighed.

“I don’t like how our dance lesson ended before.  In fact, I hate it.  We’re going to do it again and you’re not going to act like a little shit this time.”

Reg looked surprised to say the least.

“Should I put on the old record?  From before?” Slivko asked quietly.

“No.  I don’t need it.” Conrad stepped back.

Reg hastily grabbed Conrad’s hand and placed a hand on his waist, not wanting to anger him further.  However, Conrad didn’t put his hand on Reg’s shoulder this time, he put it on his back, and forcefully pulled him closer.  Reg quietly gasped at the feeling of their bodies pressed together.  He willed himself not to become aroused, but it didn’t work well, especially when he felt a hardness near his belt that wasn’t his own.  Now it was Conrad’s turn to gasp, although it was a very different kind of gasp.  He swallowed and ran his hand down Reg’s back, feeling Slivko’s toned body shift under his touch.  It was enough to drive him insane.  Conrad pressed the side of his face to Reg’s, ghosting his lips against the shell of his ear.  Reg’s knees went a bit weak.

“Why are you so angry at me, Slivko?” Conrad whispered.

“I hate how you make me feel.” Reg responded surprisingly quickly.   _ I guess he spent a lot of time reflecting while he locked himself in here _ , Conrad thought to himself.

“How do I make you feel?” Conrad moved his head down to Reg’s neck, not quite kissing but still running his lips along Slivko’s skin.

“Stupid, and nervous, and confused.  And angry.” Reg was so quiet he was barely audible, but he felt so weak he wasn’t sure if he could talk any louder.  

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Conrad questioned, grabbing Reg’s hips with both hands and grinding his cock on his.  Reg let out a stuttered sigh and gripped Conrad’s shoulders tightly.  Conrad closed his eyes, lost in the feeling, and kept rubbing himself against Reg.

“Answer again, how do I make you feel Slivko?” Conrad’s voice in Reg’s ear was smooth but still intimidating.  Reg suddenly loved being intimidated.

“Warm,” Reg managed to force out.

“Where?” Conrad asked.  Reg stepped back a bit and placed his hand on Conrad’s stomach lightly.  He shivered a little; Conrad’s abdominal muscles were just as hard as all of him seemed to be.

“Here,” Reg whispered after a moment.

Conrad was left speechless by that.  It was such an innocent, intimate moment, and yet it turned him on even more (previously thought by scientists to be impossible).

“Slivko, I-” Conrad brushed Reg’s hair to the side with his hand, leaning in to kiss him, but his action and sentence were interrupted by the sounds of the boys returning from whatever shenanigans they had been up to.  Even when being discovered was on the line, Conrad had to force himself to step away.

“Captain-” Reg began, reaching out for him.

“Come to my quarters at midnight.  If you want this.” Conrad urged, backing away.  Quickly, he dashed out of the barracks, right as the other soldiers entered.

 

Both of them couldn’t even come close to sleeping that evening.  Reg’s mind was racing with all the ways it would go wrong.  Conrad was convinced Reg wouldn’t come at all.  But when midnight came around, Reg did arrive, wearing his tags and fatigue bottoms but no shirt.  Conrad, on the other hand, was still fully dressed, as well as sporting a pair of reading glasses (he’d picked up a book to try and distract himself from his anxiety).  Both of them took a moment to take in the other’s appearance.

“You sleep in your fatigues?” Conrad asked with a tone of amusement.

“I had no choice for so long, I sort of got used to it.” Reg smiled weakly, though even his weakest smile was warmer than your average beam of sunshine. “What are you reading?” 

“The Odyssey, have you ever read it?” Conrad stood up from his desk, closing the book.  Slowly, he walked around towards Reg, who shook his head ‘no.’

“It’s a classic.  It’s about a man who returned from war, only to find that things aren’t so easy back home either.  He can’t trust people he thought he could trust… the god of the sea tortures him.  It’s fantastical, of course, but I’ve always found it surprisingly relatable.”  By now, Conrad had reached Reg, and gently ran his fingers through Slivko’s soft hair.  It was much easier now with the headband gone.

“Do you ever feel like that?  Like some sort of greater force is playing a trick on you?” Conrad’s voice was comforting, but still felt powerful.  Reg only nodded in response.

“How long have you known you were a homosexual, Slivko?” 

Reg choked a bit at that.

“A little over a day, sir.” 

Conrad laughed, in equal parts due to the response and the title.  He removed his reading glasses slowly and placed them on the desk.

“You don’t have to be so formal with me.” Conrad stepped even closer, their bodies flush, James’ hands roaming Reg’s shoulders and arms softly.

“I’m sorry, I guess I’m just a bit nervous.” Reg was even quieter than before. “This is… perverse, isn’t it.”

Conrad lowered his head, placing gentle kisses to Slivko’s cheek, then his ear, then his neck, then his shoulder.  He didn’t answer for a long time.   
“There’s nothing wrong about this.  There’s nothing wrong with you.” 

Reg relaxed greatly when he heard that, letting himself melt a bit into Conrad’s soft touches.  They held each other tighter and Reg couldn’t stop himself from letting out little noises as Conrad explored his body.  When he couldn’t take it anymore, Reg let go of Conrad’s shoulders, grabbing his face instead and pulling him up from his position biting a mark into Reg’s chest.  As Conrad’s eyes met his, he suddenly got nervous again, saying nothing and standing perfectly still.  

“What is it?” Conrad asked, and it was his obsessions with Conrad’s gorgeous accent that convinced Reg to throw himself forward and kiss Conrad.  Slivko squeezed his eyes shut, grabbing at Conrad’s neck desperately.  Conrad held Slivko tightly, giving into the passion of the moment.  The kiss was fiery, filled with gasps and moans and grabbing at each other as if they couldn’t get close enough.  When Conrad felt Reg’s hardness pressing against his leg, he immediately reached down and rubbed his hand against it, eliciting Slivko to let out a loud moan.  After he heard himself, he shot up, suddenly torn out of the moment.   
“What if they hear us?” Reg whispered urgently.

“They won’t, baby, it’ll be okay.” Conrad responded, pulling Reg back into the kiss and continuing to stroke him through the fatigues.  Reg ran his hands up Conrad’s chest, then down to the bottom of his shirt and tugged at it.  Conrad pulled away just long enough to take his shirt off, intending to return to the kiss afterwards, but before he could Reg was latching himself onto James’ neck, sucking and biting and licking and causing Conrad to stutter out a deep groan.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Conrad moaned, leaning his head back and searching blindly for Reg’s flies.  Reg kept running his hands along Conrad’s muscular chest and back, and Conrad managed to undo the button of Reg’s fatigues, lowering his zipper and exposing his cock.  The fact that Reg may not have been wearing anything under those fatigues this whole time drove Conrad crazy in a wonderful way.

Reg gasped as Conrad took his cock into his hand, stroking it slowly.

“F-fuck, Captain,” Reg whispered against Conrad’s skin.  Conrad was so lost in the sensation of Reg’s heavy, throbbing cock that he didn’t even care that Reg called him “Captain.”  Reg broke away from Conrad’s neck to look down at his own cock in Conrad’s hand, like the concept was blowing his mind (which it was).  Conrad looked at Reg, finding his fascination rather endearing.  

“Do you like that?” Conrad asked sweetly.

“Yes, God, yes.” Reg closed his eyes, smiling a little.

“Touch me, please touch me, Reg,” Conrad pleaded quietly, and Reg moaned unintentionally hearing Conrad call him by his first name for the first time.  He quickly grabbed at Conrad’s flies, undoing them and lowering his pants and underwear just enough to set Conrad’s cock free.  Reg swallowed when he saw it; He’d never seen another one hard before, and it was so enticing.  He wasn’t sure what it was about it that was so great, but it made him feel weak and desperate (and a little nauseous).

Cautiously, Reg wrapped his hand around Conrad’s length and stroked all the way from the base to the tip and back.  Conrad shivered, keeping his right hand on Reg’s cock but running his left up and down Reg’s spine slowly.

“Is that… is that okay?  Am I doing it right?” Reg asked shakily.

“Yes baby, it’s so good, you’re so good.” Conrad wanted to close his eyes from the feeling but was determined to watch Reg succumb to pleasure.

They kissed again, and continued stroking each other, but just as Conrad felt Reg was getting close, he pulled away. 

“I want more,” Reg said quietly, scanning Conrad’s form hungrily.

“What do you want?” Conrad asked, more than a little surprised that Reg wanted to go farther his first time with a man.

“I… I want,” Reg was already speaking quietly, but he lowered his voice to a whisper as if he was sharing a secret. “I want to fuck.”

Conrad smiled. “I think we can arrange that.”

Conrad stepped closer to Reg, and he looked happy at first, but then he looked concerned, and stepped back again.   
“Wait, but doesn’t one of us have to… don’t we have to…” Reg sounded scared.  It broke Conrad’s heart.

“It’ll probably be easier for you if I… if you fuck me, this first time.” Conrad was eager to make Reg comfortable but didn’t want to establish a precedence of bottoming- he was still desperate to get inside of Reg as soon as possible.

“Is it… what’s it like?” Reg asked softly as they both removed their pants.

“It feels a lot like being with a woman.” Conrad figured that half-truth about topping would probably be the best way to calm Reg down, but instead Reg stayed nervous.

“I wouldn’t know,” he replied after a pause.

“Really?  So you’ve never-”   
“No, I haven’t… is that a problem?” Reg suddenly became even more anxious.

“No, no, it’s okay, don’t worry, it’s not hard at all.” Conrad grabbed Reg’s hand and led him slowly to the bed, laying down on his back.  Reg climbed on top of him, examining his body carefully.

“I have to, um, prepare first.” Conrad reached under the bed and pulled out a small tub of lubricant.

“What’s that?” Reg asked innocently.  Conrad chuckled.

“It’s Vaseline, essentially.”

“Oh.” Reg said.  _ The good half of napalm,  _ Reg thought.

Conrad gathered a decent amount on his fingers and reached down to his entrance, lifting his legs.  Reg moved out of his way, watching enraptured.  Excited to move on to the main attraction, Conrad started with two fingers.  It burned a bit, but he’d managed worse.  He bit his lip to contain himself.  Though he closed his eyes, he could still hear Reg’s sighs and he could tell he was enjoying the view.  When he opened his eyes, Reg was holding his cock but kept his hand still, obviously trying to stop himself from coming.  It was adorable and it made Conrad’s own cock twitch excitedly.  Conrad accidentally brushed against his spot, gasping and clutching at the bedposts with his free hand.

“Are you okay?” Reg’s voice was concerned but he seemed confident that what just happened was good.

“Yes, yes I’m fine.” Conrad took a deep breath, pulling his fingers out and flipping onto his stomach.

“You can, now, if you want,” Conrad continued.

Reg took a deep, shaky breath.  Conrad figured he’d dive right in, but instead he took a moment and touched Conrad’s buttocks, spreading them apart and looking at his hole, shiny with lube.  

“I’m… I’m going to now.” Reg said softly.

“Please” was all Conrad said.

Slowly, Reg lowered himself so he was hovering over Conrad’s body.  He guided himself to Conrad’s entrance and pushed in carefully.  Conrad gasped and Reg sighed.  He pushed himself in further, catching his breath, and then finally sheathed himself fully in Conrad.

“Oh” was all Reg said.

Reg pumped himself in and out slowly, so slow that Conrad was close to begging for more.  Fortunately, Reg sped up before Conrad had to say anything.  It didn’t last all that long, and not a word was spoken, but somehow it all felt quite… powerful, is maybe the best way to describe it.  Reg reached up to brush Conrad’s hair out of his face, a gesture that demonstrated great consideration but also proved that Reg wanted Conrad, he wanted to see his face and know that this was happening with him.  The only sounds that filled the room were their uneven breaths and Reg’s tags jingling quietly.

Conrad knew from the erratic way that Reg began to thrust into him that he was close.  With a grunt and a tightened grip on Conrad’s side, Reg came inside of him and then relaxed.  They laid like that for a few moments, until Reg pulled out and noted with a sad tone that Conrad hadn’t finished.

“It’s okay,” Conrad began as he rolled over to his back, “it’s your first-”

Conrad was interrupted by Reg diving down and eagerly taking Conrad’s cock into his mouth.  Conrad let out a long moan, running his hand through Reg’s hair.

“Oh fuck, Reg!” When he heard his name, Reg looked up, meeting Conrad’s gaze and leaving him speechless. 

Reg’s head was clearly that of a virgin, but it was so enthusiastic and he was trying so hard, it was pulling at Conrad’s heartstrings as well as creating a familiar tug in his gut.

“Fuck, Reg, I’m going to… fuck it’s so good, I’m going to-” Conrad tried to warn Reg but he didn’t stop, and soon he was spilling his load into Reg’s mouth.  Reg looked a little shocked but didn’t pull away, instead waiting for Conrad to finish with his lips wrapped around his cock.  When he was sure he was done, he pulled off gently, and swallowed.  

“Reg, oh God, that was… you didn’t have to do that.” Conrad was starting to get the feeling that most of the times in his life he’d been speechless were because of this boy.

“I know, I wanted to.” Reg cracked a smile, but then coughed.  Conrad pulled him closer desperately, encouraging Reg to lay down next to him.

“I can’t, if I stay here… I have to go back.” Reg looked nervous again.  Conrad sat up and kissed his neck gently.

“I know.  But you can stay a little longer.”

They laid together for a long time, though they didn’t talk that much.  Slivko started to doze off wrapped in Conrad’s arms, so eventually he had to be woken up and sent off.  Conrad hated to watch him go, but the sweet goodnight kiss they shared was almost worth it.


	2. Learning to Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> watch out there’s some Angst :0 !! but then there’s fluff :) and then a lil smut ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

The next morning, Conrad awoke feeling strangely refreshed, considering that he hadn’t gone to bed until well into the night. He practically skipped on his way to the mess hall, slightly disappointed to learn that Reg had chosen to sleep in (though he completely understood).   
At 9 a.m. Conrad was still in the cafeteria, chatting with Hank and Hawkins, which eventually turned into him sitting there staring off into space with Hank and Hawkins talked to each other. He had hoped that being here would make it easier for Reg to say good morning to him without being conspicuous, but clearly Reg didn’t agree with that strategy because he never showed.  
By 10 a.m. Conrad was in his office tapping his pencil on his desk anxiously. He’d been trying to work, but he kept thinking about how Reg would probably stop by soon and they’d share a secret kiss and Reg would smile and how nice that was going to be. So he’d ended up just thinking about that over and over for an hour and a half. But then 11 a.m. came and went without Reg’s visit. Conrad stared at his desk clock for a bit and thought about how only one light has to change to go from 11:25 to 11:26, but then, by comparison, the number of lights that have to change from 11:26 to 11:27 is practically a reinvention of the wheel. After a while, Conrad laid on his bed and watched the ceiling fan spin (he understood why Reg had gotten such a kick out of it before, it really is the ultimate depression pastime) and accidentally dozed off. It was a dreamless sleep, and he woke up feeling less rested than before. He sat up and sighed. The bed creaked under him and it seemed loud compared to the lack of movement in the rest of the room. The ceiling fan made a dull whirr, and on his desk Conrad’s wristwatch beeped, but otherwise the room was silent. Conrad was used to quiet moments like this one, for most of his life he had sought them out, but suddenly it felt so much quieter.   
It took him a while to convince himself to get up. When he did, he wandered to the cafeteria, and no one was there. He went to the barracks, but no one was there either. There is a lot of space on an aircraft carrier built for 6,000 people, and when there are only 800 people on board, most of that space is empty. At this point, Conrad’s standards were lowered from seeing Reg to seeing any human, but he didn’t feel like roaming the ship for humans he knew anymore, so he instead ventured to the lower decks where crew tended to be pushing buttons and adjusting dials. He watched them from a higher level for either a very long time or a very short time, he couldn’t tell. He hadn’t realized how focused he was on watching the sailors walk about until a tap on the shoulder jolted him out of his trance.  
“What’re you doing down here?” Weaver smiled, sitting down next to him on the corrugated steel.  
“I could ask you the same thing,” Conrad replied, feeling better for having seen a friend.  
“That’s fair. We missed you at lunch.”   
“I highly doubt that.”  
Weaver chuckled. A still but not necessarily uncomfortable pause occurred.  
“Was Slivko at lunch?” Conrad asked without turning to her. “I know he missed breakfast,” he continued, hoping to come off more as a concerned friend than a lonely lover.  
“Yep! I think he was just tired before. He seemed like his normal self.” Weaver’s voice sounded chipper but she was staring at Conrad with a concerned look. Conrad waited for her to say something that matched her expression, but she didn’t.  
“Did he ask about me?” Conrad winced after he said it. It sounded so stupid. It was so stupid.  
“Um… no.” Weaver added the “um” to be nice and they both knew it. In reality, Reg was the only one who didn’t ask where Conrad was. “Does he have a reason to?”  
“We’re working on a project together,” Conrad quickly responded, “I realized there’s a flaw in the system and I’ve been anxious to get his feedback, but we keep missing each other.” Conrad was good at lying, to say the least, and his lie came out so fast that he wondered how he even thought of it before he said it. And yet this lie had spikes, it came out of his mouth and left little cuts instead of flowing like they usually did. It still felt natural to lie, but less in the way that breathing is natural and more in the way that untreated toothaches are natural.  
“Huh, that’s interesting. But it’s not a reason for him to ask about you.” Weaver raised an eyebrow. Conrad sighed, and then chuckled a little. Mason was such a pain; Conrad didn’t have the energy to come up with a lie she wouldn’t see through.  
“We both know it’s a personal matter worth lying about, why do you need to pry?” Conrad found himself smiling, even though he didn’t feel very happy. Weaver smiled too, the kind of smile one would have when trying not to gloat about a victory.  
“There’s not much to do on this ship but pry,” Weaver shoved Conrad on the shoulder lightly.  
“Well then how come I’m not digging into your business, hm?”  
“Because it wouldn’t be on brand with your,” Weaver began a poor Conrad impression, “‘hmph I’m Captain Conrad and I don’t have any friends’ vibe.”  
Conrad laughed. A good, hearty laugh that felt much too happy to have come from him.  
“I was better off without friends. Nobody pried into my business then.”  
Weaver laughed too, and it reminded Conrad of how it feels to drink hot soup when you’re sick and cold: you’re still sick and cold afterwards, but it’s so much more bearable.  
Conrad and Weaver chatted for a bit longer about nothing particular (always the best chats) before Weaver stood up and dusted herself off.  
“I’d better get up before I have permanent scars from sitting on this bumpy floor for so long,” she said, stretching and readjusting to standing again. Conrad stood too, not realising how un-ergonomic that position had been until nearly everywhere started to ache.  
“You know,” Weaver added with a mischievous look on her face, “most of the team’s up on the landing pad enjoying the nice weather. I think I saw the soldiers up there too… in case you’re still worried about that project.”  
And with that, she turned and dashed up the stairs, disappearing as quickly as she appeared. Conrad smiled again; Even though he was still feeling drained from… whatever it was that had Reg upset, he couldn’t deny it was good to have somebody looking out for him, even if that somebody was always looking a little too hard.  
Conrad made his way across the deck to the Starboard stairwell (the fastest way to the landing pad) and began the 7-flight climb. While he walked, he tried to convince himself that there was some possibility that he was overreacting and that Reg wasn’t much, much less excited about their night together than Conrad was. However, it always ended in a paradox, because if he really was overreacting, it was proof that he was right, because only his feelings for Reg would cause him to overreact in the first place.   
As he reached the 6th flight, he saw the sun pouring in from the doors on the landing pad. The pale orange light warmed the dark, scuffed steel of the stairwell and it was almost serene in Conrad’s mind for a moment. Of course, the peace was interrupted by the faint sounds of Born on the Bayou coming from the other side of the doors. As Conrad pushed them open, he saw most of the team scattered about, having various conversations and enjoying the view of the Pacific. Across the deck, the boys were playing cards (typical) and there was Reg with his shirt off (also typical but much more annoying), laughing as if nothing were wrong. Conrad felt an odd mix of relief and anger: On the one hand, it felt good to see Reg, especially when he was bathed in warm sunlight and laughing and generally looking… easy on the eyes, but on the other hand, how dare he not be wallowing like Conrad was? Conrad was no stranger to the one-night stand (understatement of the year), but one-night stands that start with narrowly avoiding death multiple times together didn’t seem like they should end with everybody going their separate ways so easily. What kind of freak says “you make me feel warm” to someone a few hours before cutting them off completely? As he crossed the deck, Conrad began retracing his steps, wondering how it was possible that the Reg from last night and the Reg over there playing cards were the same person. But that required thinking about last night, which made Conrad feel a little horny and a little sick, so he decided to stop thinking about that.   
Reg looked up at him. Conrad was still a ways away, but Reg still looked him right in the eyes. Then he got up and walked away. Conrad wanted to run after him, but his shock (as well as good sense) stopped him; Instead, he just stood there, dumbfounded, looking and feeling like an idiot.  
Realizing he wasn’t going to be able to salvage his image and catch up with Reg, Conrad turned and walked back to the stairs as calmly as he could. As soon as he was through the doors, though, he ran. He ran down the stairwell to the 5th level and ran across, hoping to catch Reg in the Port stairwell. When he opened the doors, he heard footsteps going faster beneath him and turned the corner. Conrad’s heart raced, partially from the 100-yard sprint he didn’t consent to being a part of, but mostly because he hadn’t seen Reg so close in what felt like weeks.  
“Reg!” Conrad shouted after him, but he was already a flight ahead and going faster.  
“Reg! Why are you running?”  
“Leave me alone!” Reg shouted back, but he slowed down.  
“I will!” Conrad replied desperately.  
Reg stopped. Everything stopped. The echoing shouts and slamming footsteps had made the stairwell quite cacophonous for those few moments, but now it was painfully quiet.  
“I will.” Conrad’s voice was soft, as well as weak from the labored breathing. He slowly descended the half-flight to where Reg was standing on the landing, facing the other way. “I will, if you just tell me why.”  
A moment passed before Reg turned. His nose was red and a tear rested on his cheek. Reg wiped it away with the back his hand almost aggressively.  
“Are you okay?” Conrad asked as he reached for him, but Reg jerked himself away.  
“I’m not stupid, you know. That might come as a surprise to you, cause everybody seems to think I am, but I’m not.” Another tear fell and was again defiantly wiped away.  
“I don’t think that, Reg, I’ve never thought-”  
“Can you just stop? Please?” Reg’s face showed sadness but his voice sounded frustrated, with a hint of exhausted.  
“Stop what?”   
“Lying to me! It’s obvious!”   
Conrad wasn’t sure how to respond since he had no idea what Reg was talking about.  
“What else did I lie about?”  
“As if you don’t know.” Reg scoffed.  
Conrad stepped forward and Reg didn’t step away this time. He grabbed Reg’s arms, and though he didn’t fight his touch, he looked away, as if looking at Conrad would turn him to stone.  
“I don’t know! Tell me when I lied!” Conrad clenched his teeth, gripping Reg tightly and fighting the stinging sensation behind his eyes.   
“Before, when you said…” Reg’s voice was barely audible, but it was still cracking as more tears stained his face. “You acted like…”  
“What, Reg?” Conrad whispered too, loosening his grip a little.  
“You acted like you cared. About me.”  
Conrad let go completely.   
“Acted? You think I don’t care about you?”  
“How could you? We’re totally different. There’s no way… it doesn’t make any sense…” Reg turned away again, looking like he was trying to solve a difficult math problem in his head.  
“How can I convince you that you matter to me?” Conrad approached Reg from behind, gently pulling him into an embrace. Reg tensed up but didn't fight it or answer. “You're special, Reg. You're different. This isn't… this isn't something I do a lot.”  
Conrad had been referred to his emotional attachment to Reg, but apparently Reg took it differently.  
“So you don't sleep with a lot of men?” Reg asked with quiet hope as he turned to face Conrad.  
“I've never cared about anybody like I care for you,” Conrad dodged. It seemed to work though, because Reg smiled a little and looked at the floor. “Reg, I haven't stopped thinking about you since I met you.”  
“Oh,” Reg smiled, “I... didn't know that.”   
“I want you because of who you are, not just because you're good-looking,” Conrad said quietly as he traced his fingertips lightly down Reg's arms. The moment was interrupted by Reg's exclamation, though: “Good-looking?! You must be joking!”  
Conrad frowned.  
“No, I'm not joking.” Reg just scoffed.  
“Then you're blind. Me? With you? And you think I'm attractive! This is ridiculous,” Reg sighed, but he seemed happy, too.  
“Reg, I’ve been running all over this blasted ship looking for you, I’ve failed to control myself… more times than I care to remember around you, I nearly died saving your life on the island, and you think this is some sort of… fling?” Conrad chuckled, “I guess I can’t blame you. I tried to convince myself it wasn’t anything new either. But I’m a little too smart to believe that anymore.”  
Reg made a face like he was going to say something, but he didn’t say anything. They sort of just looked at each other for a moment, and Conrad wasn’t sure exactly when but at some point they were kissing and it was a little intoxicating. So intoxicating, in fact, that neither of them noticed the sound of the door from the landing pad swinging open. When it slammed shut, though, and voices and footsteps echoed in the stairwell, Conrad pulled Reg back onto the deck and together they ventured back to Conrad’s quarters hand-in-hand.  
As soon as Conrad had shut the door behind them, Reg was pulling him into another kiss. This one was more desperate than before, Reg’s hands reaching up into Conrad’s hair and holding his face and neck. Conrad pulled away, kissing down Reg's neck instead, and Reg squirmed in his embrace, letting out little pants that made Conrad lose control of his imagination a bit.  
“Do you want something, baby? You can tell me,” Conrad spoke into Reg's ear, running his right hand closer and closer to Reg's hard cock. Reg only whimpered.  
“Tell me what you want,” Conrad pressed.  
“I don't know how,” Reg whispered, “I don't know how to do it.”  
Conrad took a deep breath, trying to focus, and hoped to God that Reg was talking about the same thing he was.  
“I would wash you first, get you ready for me. That's how. Is that what you want?” Conrad asked, his voice and grip softer in an attempt to be comforting. Reg nodded, and Conrad walked him to the bathroom. Conrad carefully undressed Reg, and together they stepped into the shower. Reg closed his eyes as Conrad washed him, feeling a little embarrassed but also incredibly safe. Even in the midst of how peculiar it felt, Reg couldn’t stop himself from getting harder with Conrad holding him so close and washing him so intimately. Conrad gently applied soap to Reg’s rim, lathering it slowly and carefully. Reg whimpered, and braced himself against the shower wall as Conrad dipped a finger inside his entrance.  
“I didn’t know it was possible to be clean there,” Reg said quietly.  
“It is, you’ll be so clean, Reg, so ready for me…” Conrad wasn’t really paying much attention to what he was saying, focused instead on gently cleansing and stretching Slivko. Conrad plunged his finger deeper each time, and placed a soft bite to the shell of Reg’s ear as he added a second.   
“How does it feel, Reg?” Conrad whispered into his ear, kissing up and down his neck.  
“Good, it feels good,” Reg sighed, struggling to catch his breath.  
“Do you want more? Do you want me to fuck you?” Conrad asked with a hint of ferocity to his voice. Reg nodded fervently.   
Quickly, Conrad removed his fingers from Reg and turned off the shower. He handed Reg a towel and they dried off silently for a moment or two. Once he was dry, Reg innocently pulled Conrad into a kiss, and it was surprisingly calm considering how desperate both of them were. Conrad pulled Reg towards the bed without breaking the kiss, but eventually had to in order to toss Reg onto the bed and climb on top of him. Conrad couldn't stop smiling while he bit lightly down Reg’s neck.  
“Tell me how bad you wanted me again,” Reg whispered. Conrad laughed against Reg's skin.   
“I wanted you so much I could hardly take it, Reg. I thought about you all the time- I still do.” Conrad reached down to Reg's cock and was quite happy to find it already hard. Reg sighed, closing his eyes.  
“Conrad, please…” Reg moaned. Conrad grunted and lifted Reg onto his lap. Sick of the formality, he was determined to make Reg say his first name. Grabbing the lube, Conrad slicked two fingers and slowly pushed them inside Reg's entrance. Reg held onto his shoulders tightly, moaning against the crook of Conrad's neck.   
“Fuck, feels so good, I want to be inside you, Reg.” Conrad’s head was spinning as he felt for Reg's spot. He was sure he'd found it when Reg threw his head back and rocked his hips forward   
“That, nggh, that feels, fuck,” Reg strained. Conrad laughed, rubbing the bundle of nerves harder leaving Reg a moaning, incoherent mess.  
Unable to hold himself back any longer, Conrad lined himself up with Reg's hole and plunged in. Reg's nails dug into Conrad's back and he gasped which turned into a groan. It only took Conrad a moment to find Reg’s spot again, pounding into it relentlessly in a last stand to get Reg to say his name. Reg let go of Conrad’s shoulders and fell back onto the bed, arching his back and grabbing at the bedposts desperately.  
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Reg seemed like he’d forgotten all other words but that one. Conrad refused to believe he was already as close as he was so soon, but he began pumping Reg's cock with his hand anyways, just in case. Reg writhed around, totally lost in the feeling.   
“I'm close,” Reg stuttered out after a moment, and Conrad felt himself nearing the edge as well. He leaned down and left a small bite on Reg's neck, and when he knew he had no more time to spare, Conrad begged.  
“Please say my name, Reg, I want to hear you say it.”  
Reg obliged. To say that he screamed “James!” is a bit of an overstatement, but it was certainly loud, and it was rather high-pitched, too. But it was also incredibly hot, and it was Reg's exclamation which sent Conrad headfirst into an abrupt orgasm, and it was that which sent Reg following suit. Not too much later, they were collapsed on the bed catching their breath.   
“So,” Reg said after a moment, “this isn't a one-time thing then?”  
Conrad laughed.  
“No, one-time things don't usually happen twice.”  
Reg smiled and closed his eyes; He looked to be somewhere between peaceful and euphoric. Conrad traced shapes on Reg's back and Reg pulled him closer, and it was a pure moment for the first time in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!! I hope this was a more satisfying conclusion to the story... I highly doubt I'll be continuing this plotline but I'll obviously keep writing Slivrad cause it's my life. If you enjoyed reading please leave kudos and/or give me some love on tumblr (reg-slivko.tumblr.com)


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